Taking care not to cause him any pain, she tightened her arms around him, buried her face in his chest, and inhaled his familiar warmth. “I was so afraid I would never see ye again,” she whispered. She clutched him harder, unreasonably afraid that if she didn’t hold him tight, he might disappear. But news she needed to share niggled at her conscience. Unable to keep it from him any longer, she lifted her head and met his loving gaze. “It was Duff who betrayed us. Because he was so jealous of Lizzie’s love for ye.”
His mouth flattened into a tight line, then he kissed her. With a gentle firmness, he situated her at his side and walked them farther from the fire and those gathered around it. “Dugald told me. The man has apologized a dozen times at least. The weight of his brother’s guilt crushes him.”
“He feels responsible.” She dreaded telling him about his grandmother, but he needed to know. He would look for her when they reached the port. “Teague…”
“I already know she is gone, my dove.” He stared straight ahead as they walked. Sorrowful. Forlorn. He reminded her of a lost child separated from its mother. “She came to me in a dream whilst I hid from the Campbells. I heard her whispers as I lay there ’neath that rotting log. When ye said some were coming with us to France and then onward across the seas, I knew she wouldna be among them. Her mind and soul were strong as could be, but the frailness of her body would never allow it.”
“It was peaceful,” she said, hoping he might find some comfort in that knowledge. “I held her hand until she crossed over.” After a deep breath, she continued, “Bethia refused to come with us. She is determined to join yer grandmother once she is laid to rest in the cave where ye were born.”
He slowly shook his head. “A rare loyalty in that one. God bless her and keep her in perfect peace.” A deep sigh shifted him against her. “I shall miss this land of my blood.”
“I understand. But it is safer for everyone if we leave. Some of the bloodiest times for our beloved Scotland will soon be upon us.” She could not put into words the relief she felt he believed in her visions. If he had not… A shudder stole across her.
His arm tightened around her. “I trust ye, my precious dove. I just wish ye were wrong.” He slowly shook his head. “But I daren’t risk not believing ye. Not when yer words proved so right this time.”
“Our children will be safer in Nova Scotia.”
He slowly tipped his head forward and eyed her, his smile getting wider by the second. “Ye are with child?”
She held up a hand to slow his excitement. “Not yet. But as soon as we make landfall in our new land, I promise not to use the tansy oil or vinegar anymore.” She couldn’t resist a scolding glare. “Vivyanne said she told ye.”
“Aye, she did.” His smile settled back into the lopsided grin that always made her heart beat faster. “Never tell that woman anything ye dinna wish everyone to know.”
“That advice would have been handy to have sooner rather than later.” But she couldn’t be angry with him. After all, he had taken her and Robbie in without knowing anything about them. And then they hadclicked. If anyone had ever told her that such a phenomenon existed, that she would meet the missing piece in her soul’s puzzle three hundred years in the past, she would have laughed them off as insane. Yet here she was. Married to him within three months of meeting him. And God help her, she loved him so much it frightened her.
“What are ye thinking, my precious dove?” With a pained grunt, he lowered himself to a fallen log and pulled her down beside him.
“That time doesna seem to be a factor when it comes to loving someone.” She laced her fingers through his and balanced their clasped hands on her knee. “And I never wouldha believed such a thing before I met ye.”
He squeezed her hand and pressed a gentle kiss to the back of it. “I believe our destinies are woven before we are born.” The faintest smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he stared downward. “Our threads, yer soul’s and mine, were chosen to make a strong tapestry that would survive the ripples of time. We are of the same cloth. We were meant to be.” He lifted his gaze to hers and cocked a brow. “Did ye not sense it when we first met?”
She hated to disappoint him, but felt she needed to be honest. “I think I was too afraid. At first, anyway.” She tried to console him with a smile. “I had to learn I could trust ye. Once I learned that lesson, then yes, I sensed there was an unexplainable force pulling us together.” She couldn’t resist laughing at her own wording. “I suppose it was magic, aye?”
He rewarded her with that rumbling laugh that warmed her soul. “Aye, I suppose it was, at that.” With a pat of her hand, he leaned closer and gave her a teasing nudge. “Grandmother told me the story,” he whispered.
“What story?” she playfully whispered back, but a cold sweat peppered every inch of her flesh. Surely old Cora had not betrayed her and told their secret?
With a huffing chuckle, he shook his head. “How the two of ye knew each other far into the future and traveled back in time to find yer true loves.”
“My goodness.” She forced herself to swallow and concentrated on breathing carefully to keep from passing out. “And how far into the future was this time we came from?”
He chuckled again, then his eyes narrowed as if he were trying to remember. “Twentieth? No. ’Twas the twenty-first century, she said.” He smiled down at their clasped hands. “Said ye were witches, but she called it something else. I canna remember the word she used.” He kissed her hand again and squeezed it. “But she did say ye only did good spells, and ’twas yer grandmother that sent her back to meet my grandfather.”
She stifled a gag, refusing to dry-heave again and give herself away. “And how much whisky had she had when she came up with this wonderful tale?” Her tone sounded teasing to her. She hoped it sounded convincing to him.
“Quite a bit.” A happy air settled across him. “She always told the verra best stories.”
“We will have to write them down so we can read them to our children someday.” She prayed that would change the subject. Hard swallowing would not work much longer at delaying another round of panic vomiting.
“Ye have gone pale again, m’love.” He turned a bit and shouted, “Robbie!”
Before she could come up with a harmless lie, the lad bounced over to them.
Even though the boy sported a black eye and had one arm bandaged to his side, he fairly bubbled with exuberance. “Aye?”
“Are ye fit enough to fetch yer Mi a sip of cool water?” Teague gave her a concerned nod. “Look how pale she’s gone.”
“What is wrong, Mi? He’s safe, and we’ll be at the port by tomorrow. Nearly home free, we are.” Rather than run for the water, the boy crouched beside her and adopted a very mature scowl. “Are ye pregnant?”
